


all the things that could’ve been

by ailiyasneski



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst, Deal With It, F/M, No Smut, aili can’t write, i had to scroll back all way to like the beginning of my tumblr to find this, so his name is nathan, so much editing oh my god, so yeet, the things I do for you, we didn’t have a canon name for me davidson when i wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 20:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19027285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ailiyasneski/pseuds/ailiyasneski
Summary: Paul looked around the shop, and smiled. It just reminded him of her. “Because, some things are worth it. Like-“ he took a sip of the cup.”-Damn good coffee. And you,”





	all the things that could’ve been

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my tumblr peeps](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+tumblr+peeps).



> For context, there’s a theory roaming around that the hivemind could travel through time and change events before they happened. here’s my idea of how that could have went. Mentions of kissing, so if you aren’t comfortable with that, don’t read or skip that part. Also mention of a panic attack. That’s the most graphic it’ll get.   
> I recommend listing to “if i’m being honest” by dodie for the first half of the story and “shrike” by hozier for the second half of this for the full experience. 

      It had been about four years or so since Paul had taken that new job Mr. Davidson had offered. Well, it would have been four years. But Paul remembers those years so vividly, it should’ve come as a surprise when he woke up one morning and everything was different. 

      The year prior had been the worse one he had ever experienced. One mental breakdown over job layoffs, a car crash, and his mother’s funeral led to an eventual mental hospital and caffeine addiction. He didn’t want to sleep (the crash nightmares were to real), so he drank to stay awake. He’d stay awake, and he’d feel more worn out, so he’d drink more to stay up. The caffeine crash happened, and he needed more to stay away from dreams- the cycle kept going until he collapsed on the subway. Next thing he knew, he had an IV in his arm recovering from extreme sleep deprivation. Of course, once he was out of the ER, his father took him to the mental unit. He didn’t want to go, but Paul understood why- he needed help. Badly. So, if the next two months had to be spent in a bland white-walled prison, so be it. It wasn’t as bad as he’d thought, most of the people he met were so sweet and gentle. The only thing that really scared him was the amount of minors in the ward. Those poor children. 

    Once he’d been released, he started to take better care of himself. Got a therapist, moved to a different part of Hatchetfeild, looked for a new job. His old high school math tutor, Mr. Davidson, offered him a job to help Paul get back on his feet. All he asked for in return was a monthly meeting to check up on his mental health. Seemingly fair enough, so Paul accepted. 

      Paul tried his best to deal with other parts of his life. He’d even tried dating again- something he hadn’t done since his high school prom. He’d always felt horrible about himself, about his face, his hair, his body, just a whole mess really. But he needed to get out there sooner or later, right? He started with a girl named Mary (sweet lady, just a bit too narcissistic), but by the god-knows-what-number date with the umpteenth girl, he’d just given up altogether. He liked most of the women, he even flirted with some! But he just couldn’t get over the fact that a month ago he was in a mental hospital. It shouldn’t define him, but it just seemed to loom over everything he did. The only good thing about that place besides the kids were the routines. So, he spoke to his therapist about it, and she said that having a constant thing in life would be extremely helpful. While he was still addicted to caffeine, he felt that he could try and ease his way off it. So, coffee shop it was. 

      He had started off with Starbucks. First, it was an espresso. Next, a simple iced coffee. Then he moved to Iced coffee with creamer. Than to hot coffee.  Than a simple black coffee. Soon, he would be off coffee and down to the weird cappuccino things. 

      He was driving to Starbucks to get his morning coffee when he noticed a sign. Beanie’s. Huh, He’d never heard or seen the place before- must’ve been new. He pulled into their lot, parked, and walked in. He was hit with the smell of muffins and coffee beans. Only, it smelled slightly worse than Starbucks. But honestly, who was he to judge? He walked up to the counter, ready to order. A woman peered from outside a room, and yelled. 

      “EMMA! Costumer!” 

      Paul felt bad. God, if this ‘Emma’ girl was going to get yelled at, maybe he’d go back to Starbucks. Of course, that idea was thrown out the window when he saw her. 

      Paul wasn’t big on beauty. He could appreciate someone’s attractiveness, but he never really seemed to fall for anyone based on that. He had to know them before he wanted to physically touch touch them. But when Emma walked out, god he felt his cheeks heat up. She wasn’t supermodel pretty, but she was still breath-taking nonetheless. Sure, her hair was in a messy bun (that wasn’t done to be stylish, if he may have added), bags under her eyes, and looking like she wanted to punch a guy, but she was beautiful. 

      “Welcome to Beanie’s, what can I get you?” Emma asked. Gosh, her voice. Like velvet. Sad, tired velvet, but velvet. 

      “Uh, one black coffee, please,”

____

      Paul would be lying if he said that he put up with Beanie’s mediocre coffee for Emma. But what can he say? She was one of the first purely good things to happen to him in a while. Sure, she never recognized him and he always talked super quietly and watched her work from afar, but it was enough for him. He told his therapist about her, and she said to just ask if she wanted to maybe hang out sometime. Of course, that was insane. He’d have to talk to her about things other than his coffee, and he just wasn’t ready for that. But it had been almost two months, and if Paul didn’t do something now, when would he? 

      So, that faithful day came. He walked into Beanie’s on morning, and paced to the counter. Look normal, Paul. This doesn’t have to be weird. 

      “Welcome to Beanie’s, can I help you?”

       “One black coffee,” He smiled. God he hoped he didn’t look as awkward as he felt. While she made the coffee, he noticed a small tip jar in the corner. He placed a $5 into it; Emma must’ve had superhuman hearing, because she groaned. 

      “Okay, okay! I’ve been brewing up your coffee-” 

      Paul stopped her from singing as soon as the first note hit. She may be attractive, but her singing voice was far from it. “No, no, it’s okay,”

      “Oh, thank god! Nora came back from Coldstone Creamery last weekend and took up the whole singing thing. It’s annoying as hell,” 

      “Sounds like it,” Paul gave a breathy laugh. 

    “I’ve seen you around before, what’s your name?” 

      “Paul,” He extended his hand for a shake. 

      “I’m Emma-” she finishes her sentence while handing Paul his coffee (he put his hands down awkwardly). “-but I’m sure you know that by Nora’s yelling,” 

      At this point, Paul was 100% positive he had a crush on Emma. Okay, crush sounded childish. He had a thing…a fascination…no, no, it was a crush. And god damn it felt nice. To have something positive in his life after so long. 

      “Would you want to get lunch with me sometime?” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could think. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. But to his luck, Emma smiled. 

      “Yeah, actually; but it has to be dinner- my lunch break is only 30 minutes. What about next Friday, 7?” 

      A costumer behind Paul started to curse him out- Paul had forgotten other people existed. “Yeah, that works. See you then,” 

      “See you then,” 

      When Paul got home that evening, he was ecstatic. He had a date! Maybe it would even be a good one! But he didn’t want to get his hopes up- she looked excited when he asked, but she could be doing it out of pity. After all, he did stare helplessly at her. And if she knew he was there a lot, than maybe she hoped going out with him would just get rid of him. No, stop it, he told himself. If she didn’t want to go out with him, she would’ve said no. He’d just go on the date and see what happens.

     The next morning as he drove to Beanie’s, it occurred to him that he didn’t know where to pick her up. Or how. God, he was stupid. She was probably already on shift, so he decided on asking the moment he got into the shop. 

      Of course, this had to be the day Emma was off shift. It was Wednesday, so she was off until 2pm. Of course. Paul sighed as he walked into the coffee shop. The last thing he expected was to bump into the one and only while she walked out. 

      “Sorry, I- oh hey! You’re Paul, right?” 

      It took a second for Paul to get his footing and voice back, but he smiled awkwardly. “Hey, Emma. Yeah it’s me. I’m actually really glad I ran into you, I have a question,” He and Emma walked over to the ordering counter. 

      Finger guns. “Knock yourself out,” 

      Paul chuckled before replying. “Can I get your number? I just want to know where to pick you up Friday,” a barista coughed, and he looked over. “One black coffee,” 

“Yeah, of course! Here, lemme just-“ she snatched Paul’s phone right out of his hands, and put in her number. “There you go! I’ll send you a photo you can use for my picture so you know it’s me,” 

      “Okay. Okay, uh, cool,” He smiled. The barista handed him his coffee, and he put a 10 on the table. “Keep the change,” he looked back at Emma. “Now, I’m going to go to my job,” 

      “Why don’t you go over to Starbucks, huh? Coffee here’s shit,” 

      Paul looked around the shop, and smiled. It just reminded him of her. “Because, some things are worth it. Like-“ he took a sip of the cup.”-Damn good coffee. And you,” 

____

      So came Friday night, and Paul was getting anxious. Emma had said to meet him outside of Beanie’s (’I’m working until 5 Friday’, she said), but it had been then thirty minutes and there was no sign of her. It’s not like he was hiding or anything- he was sitting in his car, smack in front of Beanie’s doors, clear as day. Maybe she forgot. Maybe she blew him off. No, Emma was a nice person, she wouldn’t do that. Would she? But, just as Paul was starting to have a freak out, Emma pushed open the front doors and looked around. Thank god. She saw Paul and waved, walking to his car; he rolled down a window. 

      “I was starting to think you’d ditched me,” He laughed. 

      “Me, leaving you? Never,” She laughed back and got into the passenger seat. “So, where to, posh boy?” 

      “Posh boy?”

      “I dunno, you just look posh,” 

      Paul looked at himself; he was just wearing a nice polo and jeans. It’s not like he was wearing a suit or anything. “Oh, well thank you. You’re looking nice yourself,” That was true- she was wearing a nice pair of jeans with a blouse. 

      “Why thank you,” She imitated a British accent and failed horribly. 

      “You’re welcome, m’dam,” Paul replied with an equally bad accent. She giggled. “We’re just heading to a Mexican place. You like Mexican, right?” He returned to his normal voice. 

      “Of course! Who doesn’t?”

      “Alright, let’s go then!” 

      The ride to the restaurant was much more scenic than Paul expected. The highway was way to backed up to even move, so Emma suggested they take a back route. Paul didn’t know the way, so they ended up switching spots. Emma typed in the restaurant’s name into the GPS, and off they went. Paul looked out the passenger window to find they were driving next to an apple orchard- god was it pretty. The budding flowers and ripe looking apples that hung from the trees made Paul practically taste the apples in his mouth, The smell of apple cider in the distance made him swoon. If there was one thing that could always remind him of childhood, it was the smell of apple cider- how his grandmother used to pick him up from school in the fall and make him apple pie and apple cider, and feed it to hi until he was stuffed. Those were the days. 

      “What are you smilin’ so hard about?” Emma asked. 

      “Nothing really, just it smells amazing,”

      “Alright,” He could feel her gaze on his face every now and again for the rest of the ride.

       Once they arrived back at the restaurant, Emma pulled into the parking lot, and jumped out of the car. Paul soon followed, and when they both got the doors of the restaurant, Emma smirked and opened the door for Paul. “Ladies first,” 

      “Very funny,” Paul said sarcastically, but smiled. 

      The restaurant wasn’t fancy, but it was on of those places that you probably shouldn’t wear a t-shirt to. The lighting was dim enough to eat in but still feel like you were eating at some five-star place. The food smelled amazing as they both walked past the kitchen, following the host to their table. They sat down, and took a good look at their menus before Emma cleared her throat to speak up. “You know, I saw you staring at me the past two months,” 

      Paul was taken aback. Shit. “What?” 

      “Yeah, you kept staring at me. You’d stay in Beanie’s and drink your coffee. It’s not hard to tell when someone’s eyeballing you, just so you know.” She saw Paul’s face, and laughed. He must’ve looked stupid. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. I mean, I found it creepy at first, but you were always so flustered when you ordered, so I knew it wasn’t like you were stalking me,” 

      Paul rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you’d even notice me,” 

      “With a face like yours? It’s hard not to!” She gave a breathy laugh before continuing. “But then you asked me out and honestly, I was super exited. You seemed…sweet.” 

      “Well? Am I what you expected?” 

      “No,” Paul was about to frown, but then he smiled. “You’re so much more,” 

 

      The food was fantastic. Emma had gotten the chicken taquitos, and Paul ordered the beef tacos. Safe to say, it took a while to make, but they passed the time by staking the salt and pepper shakers from the tables around them (Paul noted later that taking them while people were eating wasn’t the best idea, but honestly it was so much fun that he didn’t care). Then their food came, and they laughed because they had so many shakers. Eventually they put them back. While they ate, they talked about family, their jobs, and then their pasts eventually came into the discussion.

      “So, what’s your trauma?” Emma asked after a mouthful of taquito.

      “Hm?” 

      “Come on, we’ve all got something. Spill,” 

      God, was she ready for that so quickly? Was he even ready for that? He’d never told anyone at the office (minus Bill, but Bill was his best friend) about his past, so how was he to tell a woman he doesn’t even know? “Uh, I just went through a rough patch,” 

      Emma seemed to catch on that he didn’t want to talk about, and didn’t push. “Ah- I get that.” It sounded like she wanted to say something, but she stopped herself. She probably realized it was a bit early for trauma talk. Thank god. 

      By the time they’d finished eating, the sun was just about done setting. Paul drove her home this time, and the winding back roads and stoplight gave him time to think. He was starting to fall for Emma. He knew his heart was moving too fast, that it was all too much, but he didn’t care. She was everything he’d ever wanted and more. He couldn’t risk loosing her. Paul looked over at her- her head leaning against the glass, eyes closed, but he knew she wasn’t asleep. She really looked like an angel. Paul didn’t believe in God all that much- he’d grown up in church, but he never believed God made time for everyone. Now, he was starting to believe it. 

      When the GPS told him he’d arrived at Emma’s place, he parked and shook her gently. “Emma, we’re here,” 

      She groaned. “Okay, okay,” She opened her eyes. “I wasn’t sleeping, but god I wish I was,”

      Paul pretended to be offended. “ Am I that boring?” 

      She gave a small laugh. Paul got out of the car, and opened her door for her. She gave a thank you. “You can come up with me for a bit, if you want.” Was Paul going to say no? Of course not. He followed her up the complex until they reached her floor. She dug the front door’s key from her pocket, and unlocked it. The place was nice for an apartment. A small couch, with a tall lamp in the corner. The kitchen was decent enough, and it looked like it had been recently cleaned. The smell of lavender took over his senses, and he exhaled sharply. “Come ‘ere,” Emma motioned with her hand, to which Paul followed- he hadn’t realized she’d starting walking ahead of him. He followed her into her bedroom. It was a nice light shade of gray with a purple accent wall. Quilts everywhere, her bed looked more like a giant pillow than a mattress with a headboard. A small table that acted as a dresser sat in the corner, along with a small bookshelf. While he was looking around the room, Emma had put on a record because of course she had a record player on her nightstand. He recognized the artist- Hozier. His voice acted as an anchor to the real world when Emma walked up to Paul and kissed him. 

      The kiss was soft- not to hard, more like she was testing the waters. Her lips tasted like coconut. Must’ve been chap-stick; or who knows, maybe she really just tasted that sweet. He’d been so lost in her, he didn’t notice he was kissing back. He didn’t notice his arms wrapping around her waist, her hands in his short hair. He didn’t notice that she turned them around, and that they were moving backward. It wasn’t until his back hit her bed, with her kissing him more deeply on top of him did he snap out of his trance. He didn’t want this. Well, he did, but not this quick. Not on the first date. He felt like.. he didn’t know why, but it just didn’t feel right. 

      “Emma?” He whispered, doing his best to pull away from the kiss. 

      “Yeah?” She asked, her voice breathy. Paul looked away; he felt so fucking stupid. He’s a guy- he’s supposed to want to fuck her on the first date. But he didn’t want to fuck her- not yet. And that seemed like such a degrading term- fucking someone. He wanted to love her, make her feel like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. But not yet. Not this early. His thoughts must’ve been planting themselves on his face, because she pulled back. “Paul, what’s wrong?” Her voice sounded like honey, and Paul hated to do this to her. 

      “I’m…I’m not ready. I do want to, you know..just, not now,” He did his best to explain. She nodded. 

      “Of course, that’s okay. Do you just want to lay here?” 

      Paul wondered how he managed to find a woman like Emma. “Yeah, that’s fine,” 

      They curled up together on Emma’s bed, sharing a couple of kisses her and there until they both fell asleep to the distant sounds of traffic and Hozier. 

      The next morning, Paul woke up to the sunlight hitting his face. He didn’t even want to open his eyes at first- the sun and the warmth wrapped around him made him feel like a cat. A lazy cat that didn’t want to move, even though the day had started long beforehand; even though the cat knew it needed to eat, that it needed to get some fresh air, it wouldn’t move for the world, as it was right where it needed to be- Paul was just like that cat. But, he couldn’t get his way, could he? He opened his eyes, and smiled. He was in Emma’s room. She was tangled up with him; their legs intertwined, her head leaning on his chest, his head leaning on top of hers. She looked at peace. 

      Paul’s back pocket started to buzz, and Paul gave a quiet groan. God, he couldn’t get one morning of silence, could he? He gently moved one of his hands off of Emma’s back. and slowly reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. Mr. Davidson, it read. He picked up. 

      “Hello?” He whispered. 

      There was chatter behind Mr. Davidson’s voice. Was he at the office? No, it was Saturday- he was probably at Starbucks or something. “Paul, where are you? You missed our monthly meeting,” 

      Fuck. “What time is it?” 

      “About 11,” 

      “I’m so sorry, sir. I, um..I had a date, and-”

      Paul could practically see the smile on Mr. Davidson’s face. “No worries, Paul. And you don’t need to call me sir, remember? You know me. I’ll move the meeting until Monday,” 

      “Than you, Nathan,” 

      “Paul, I’m glad you’re back on your feet. You deserve it after the year you’ve had,” 

      “Thanks,” Paul bid a quick goodbye, and ended the call. By the time he’d turned his phone off, Emma was starting to stir. 

      “Morning,” She muttered. Her hair was a mess, and it was so adorable. 

      “Good morning,” 

      This is perfect, she’s perfect, Paul thought. I’m going to marry her. 

 

____

      It had been three and a half years, and Paul had never been more happy. He and Emma had been in a relationship since the first date. Emma had moved into Paul’s larger apartment. They got a cat together, and then things settled down. Paul had gotten to know everyone at the office to be one first name basis with everyone. He, Ted, and Bill went out of guys night every month. Emma kept up her job at Beanie’s while she got through community college. She given Paul her pot farm proposal, and Paul laughed. When he found out she wasn’t kidding, he helped her get a medical marijuana selling license. They worked on logos together, and honestly Paul did his best to support Emma no matter what. 

      Not that their relationship was perfect. When Paul’s department faced possible layoffs, it sent him into a frenzy. He couldn’t be unemployed again, living like that was hell. When Mr. Davidson called Paul into his office, Paul snapped. He started having a horrible panic attack, and the office ended up calling for an ambulance in fear of his safety. Emma, of course, was Paul’s emergency contact (along with his father), and they both ended up at the office in under a half an hour. They both talked while the first respondents calmed Paul down- Emma and his father weren’t allowed near him while he was still on edge. To this day, Paul regrets that was the way Emma met his dad. After that whole ordeal, Emma made him talk about his past. She said she needed to know, because if she needed to help on moments notice, it was important to know those things. So, Paul told her about how when they’d gone on their first date, he’d been out of a mental hospital for two months. How he’d had a mental breakdown when he lost his first job, and even thought about suicide at one point. He explained that’s why he freaked out when Mr. Davidson called him into his office. Emma understood completely- she told him about her sister’s death, and how her parents never really talked to her that much after the death, because in their grief-stricken state, they blamed her for her sister’s death. That night, both of them cried, holding one another until they wore themselves out to sleep. 

      But through all their ups and downs, they never lost sight of what they loved about each other. And now that three and a half years had past, Paul knew. He wanted to marry Emma Perkins. He wanted to share her last name, or for her to have his. He wanted to be with her until he died. They both already wanted this- marriage would just make it official to everyone else. 

      “I’m going to propose to Emma,” Paul blurted at Guy’s Night. 

      “What?” Bill asked. 

      “About time,” Ted scoffed. 

      “I have a ring picked out and everything. i just don’t know when,” 

      “You know, I proposed to Vanessa when we were having sex,” Bill commented awkwardly. “But she said yes,”

      “Look where that got you,” Ted pointed out. 

      “Not what I meant, Ted,” Bill shot back. “Look, Paul, all I’m saying is whenever feels like the best time, even if it’s weird, go for it,” 

      “Just not during sex, that’s just stupid,” Ted laughed. Bill glared at him, and Ted nudged him. “All in good tidings, Bill,” 

      “Thanks guys,” Paul smiled.

      Turns out, the right time was on a Saturday night, while they watched Dateline on their couch. She was wearing his sweater, and the cat was on her lap, and she was so perfect. Paul couldn’t think of a better time to ask the woman he loved to marry him. 

      “Emma?” 

      “Yeah, Paul?”

      Here goes nothing, he thought. “Em, I love you. And honestly, you supported me at my best, and helped me up through my worst; and I like to think I’ve done the same for you. You helped me become the man I am today, and..and everything you do reminds me every day why I’m so thankful God led me to you,” 

      “Paul, what are you doing?” Emma asked. She gasped when he got up from the couch and onto once knee.

      “This is a little bit awkward because I don’t have the ring with me,” Paul laughed, “But Emma Lauren Perkins, would you marry me?” 

      Emma put her hands over her mouth, and started to laugh. She let go, and she was smiling so wide. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes!” She jumped of the couch (the cat hissing and running away) and into Paul’s arms. “Of course!” 

      Paul kissed her, and she kissed back. They were getting married. 

____

      Paul’s been waiting for three and a half years for this day, but even in his dreams did he picture hoe beautiful Emma would be walking down the aisle. 

      They couldn’t afford much- they worked minimal wage jobs, and even with help from Paul’s father, they couldn’t afford a big venue. So, they decided on a small reception on the beach in Rhode Island. The boat ride and drive from Hatchetfeild to the beach was about 2 hours. Once they got there, they unpacked their stuff at the hotel room. They didn’t plan on having much of a honeymoon, just at the same beach they were to marry in for a week or so. But that was enough for them. 

      When the day finally came, Paul was a bubble of nerves. The wedding would take place in a small park, with the first dance and after party actually being on the beach (no one wanted to see Emma trip on her face because of sand on their wedding day (as funny has Paul and Emma seemed to think it would be, they decided against it). 

      So, there stood Paul, waiting at the end of the aisle. Emma’s friends and relatives on one side, Paul’s father and coworkers on the other. Bill offered to marry them, since Emma was atheist and priests were fucking expensive. The bridesmaids and Paul’s mates walked hand in hand down the aisle. Mr. Davidson and his wife walked down next, and Nathan winked at Paul as he passed. Finally, Paul saw Emma walk down the aisle with his father, and he lost his breath. The white dress complimented the rose flower crown that she and him were proud to say she made herself, and with her hair in a loose bun, she looked more like an angel than he’d ever seen her. When she got to the from of the alter, Paul nearly broke tradition and kissed her right then and there- but he had to hold back. The both smiled at each other while Bill went through the motions. 

      “Paul Matthews, you may now recite your vows,” Bill said. 

      Paul took a deep breath. “Can I just say how nervous I am?” The crowd laughed. “No, really!” He looked over at her. “Emma, when i met you, i was a mess. I didn’t think I was going to get better, that nothing in life mattered You came to me at the hardest point in my life, and you embraced it. You were always so gentle and patient with me, and that really meant the world to me. When I met you, the world just got so much brighter. The smells, the brightness, the colors, everything just just better. And times got hard for us, but I’m so thankful that you stuck through it all. You mean the world to me. I love you so much,” 

      Emma laughed an wiped away a couple of tears as Bill spoke up again. “Emma Perkins, you may recite you vows,” 

      “God damn, Paul, you’re a sap,” She muttered, laughing again. “Paul, I didn’t think I was worthy of love before I met you. I used to think that I’d always have to change myself for love, because that’s all I grew up knowing what love was. And frankly, I didn’t want that. The you stumbled into my life, and I realized I didn’t have to change a thing to love someone wholeheartedly. You taught me to love myself, and I hope I’ve done the same for you. Paul, I love you more than words can describe, and I hope you’ll be right there next to me for whatever the hell life wants to throw at us,” 

      “Paul and Emma Matthews, by the power rested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” 

      Emma beat Paul do it, dipping him and kissing like there was no tomorrow. 

      The rest of the reception was on the beach, and everyone had a wonderful time. Emma and Paul’s first dance was to Hozier’s Shrike, in honor of their first date. After that, a playlist of random 80s music and rave music blasted from the speakers, and everyone jumped and danced like there was no tomorrow. Even Emma’s biology teacher, Dr. Hidgens, was dancing. It went on for another three hours of so, until midnight hit, and everyone bid goodbye to the wedding. Now, all that was left was leftover cake, Emma and Paul, and the crashing waves. 

      “Emma Mathews?” Paul asked as he sat next to her. 

      “Yes, Paul Matthews?” 

      “Can we just fall asleep here? I want to remember this moment,” 

      “Of course,” Emma smiled, and they both laid down. Emma head on Paul chest, Paul holding Emma’s hand. “I love you, Em,” 

      “I love you too,” 

      They both drifted off to the sound of the waves and seagull cries. 

____

Beep, beep, beep. 

      The alarm clock woke Paul up. Which was strange, because unless he suddenly remembered to set an alarm, his alarm clock shouldn’t be ringing. He rolled himself out of bed, looking out the window. That was a hell of a storm last night- the power transformer almost blew out. Thank god he still had running water, because he hadn’t showered all weekend (not getting out of bed does that to a person). He walked over to the bathroom, and doused some water on his face. that’s when he noticed the ring. It was a wedding ring. The hell, Paul thought. He’d not married, he doesn’t even have a girlfriend. He took it off, and threw it into the trashcan. 

      He could hear his next door neighbor singing in the shower. He never sang. Odd. Who knows, maybe it was a good day for him- for what it was worth, Paul thought his voice was lovely. He turned on the radio to listen to while he made some toast. Today is March 24, 2018, Donna said. 

      Paul had a pang of deja vu. He felt like he was supposed to do something important today. He looked around his room, then shrugged. Everything seemed normal. Expect the wedding ring. After a moment of thought, he brushed the thought of. He was drunk last night, maybe he just got married it Bill by mistake. 

Paul finished up his morning routine, and locked his apartment up. Maybe he’d stop at Beanie’s again- there was a cute barista there, and who knows, maybe he would ask her out.


End file.
